


Born

by the1918



Series: Compatible [4]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alpha Steve Rogers, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alternate Universe - Canon, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bearded Steve Rogers, Breastfeeding, Captain America Steve Rogers, Captain America Steve Rogers/Modern Bucky Barnes, Domestic Bliss, Fluff, M/M, Mating Bond, Modern Bucky Barnes, Nesting, Omega Bucky Barnes, Omega Verse, Post-Birth Family Love, Post-Mpreg, Protective Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson is a Good Protector, Shrunkyclunks, Size Difference, So. Much. Nesting., Steve Rogers's Alpha Instincts, Twink Bucky Barnes, and his post-pregnancy body, can probably be read as a standalone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-18 09:08:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28615599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the1918/pseuds/the1918
Summary: Bucky was still bare of any clothing after the birth—better for scenting and skin-to-skin contact—and was kept warm by a cozy-looking knit blanket up that covered him up to his sternum. Their daughter’s head rested in the hollow of his neck. His vibranium-grafted left arm, glittering as it always did, could be seen poking out beneath the swaddled-up baby girl. Steve watched from the door as Bucky brushed a thumb over the cute tip of her nose, giggling when her whole face scrunched up. A low, pleased purr rumbled in Steve’s chest.“Heat rules?” Steve asked, sounding more than a little breathless at the sight before him.Bucky looked up with a demure smile.“Yes, please.”---A bonus epilogue taking place three years afterBespoke, a Shrunkyclunks A/B/O love story.Could be read as a tropey A/B/O standalone.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson
Series: Compatible [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1483064
Comments: 63
Kudos: 360





	Born

**Author's Note:**

> This was an unplanned installment, but I couldn't get it out of my head and I needed to write something fluffy.
> 
> Thanks to [Becassine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Becassine/works) for beta!
> 
> Enjoy ❤

* * *

“Thank you, for everything—beginning to end.”

Steve’s voice sounded exhausted to his own ears, but he knew he was smiling. He couldn’t erase the joy from his face even if he wanted.

With Sam’s assistance, they helped the young woman—Jo, Steve’s tired brain reminded him—in gathering her supplies and hauling them in cases to the front door for her.

“Of course,” Jo replied, stepping into the hallway. “I’m happy to do it.”

“Do you need any help taking this to your car?” Steve asked, but he looked at Sam; everyone knew there was no way in hell Steve was setting foot outside their home right now.

“Thank you, but I’m good,” she answered. “Got everything I need right here.”

Steve nodded and let out a heavy breath. He was happy, but he definitely needed a nap.

“Okay,” he said. “Thank you again, Jo.”

“You really don’t need to thank me,” she laughed. “I’m a midwife. It’s my job, after all, eh?”

The front door closed with a series of mechanical whirs as Steve activated the locks. He turned to Sam once he was done, then looked back in the direction of his and Bucky’s bedroom like he was helpless not to do it.

“I, um. I need to…” Steve trailed off, rubbing the back of his head self-consciously.

Sam laughed. “Go on, dumbass. That’s the whole reason I’m here.”

Steve smiled, relieved. He wanted—not for the first time that day—to look to the sky and thank god for giving him Sam Wilson as a friend.

“You’re incredible,” Steve gushed tiredly. “I know this whole thing is stupid—”

“A little, yeah,” Sam grinned. He clearly still found the situation funny. “But I know you and your crazy ultra-Alpha head couldn’t help it if you tried.”

Steve hung his head and sighed.

“Thank you, Sam. I don’t deserve you.”

“Hm,” Sam hummed, hands stuffed casually in his pockets as he feigned consideration. “I am a damn good friend, aren’t I?”

Steve felt his smile grow wider.

“The best.”

Sam chuckled, and his teasing expression settled into something more fond.

“Go, go,” he said, shooing Steve off. “Go so I can get to watching all those bad rom coms on your Netflix list while I hold down your damn fort.”

Steve went.

—

He shed every piece of his clothing except for his boxers as he walked through the bedroom, making his way towards the narrow closet door in the middle. It was open. Steve wanted to rush in, but he made himself stop at the doorway—for two reasons.

The first was that he wanted to admire the breathtaking image in front of him. His mate and his daughter—Steve’s _daughter_ —were tucked inside Bucky’s nest. The special birthing sheets, which had been made to smell richly of their scents in the days prior, were already tumbling around in the laundry room. The nest was now filled with blankets and pillows and a dozen of Bucky’s most favorite sweatshirts that smelled of him and Steve.

Bucky was still bare of any clothing after the birth—better for scenting and skin-to-skin contact—and was kept warm by a cozy-looking knit blanket up that covered him up to his sternum. Their daughter’s head rested in the hollow of his neck. His vibranium-grafted left arm, glittering as it always did, could be seen poking out beneath the swaddled-up baby girl. Steve watched from the door as Bucky brushed a thumb over the cute tip of her nose, giggling when her whole face scrunched up. A low, pleased purr rumbled in Steve’s chest.

The second reason he stopped was because he first needed to pose a very important question.

“Heat rules?” Steve asked, sounding more than a little breathless at the sight before him.

Bucky looked up with a demure smile.

“Yes, please.”

Steve’s shoulders sagged with a subtle and almost unnecessary relief; of course Bucky was always going to say ‘yes’. He’d felt as much just listening through their bond.

The nesting closet was the most important room in their home. It was an almost sacred space for Bucky and one that Steve had forever been staunch about respecting, keeping his distance unless his presence was explicitly requested. But a special set of rules took effect whenever Bucky was in Heat or pre-Heat. Under those rules, not only did Steve not need Bucky’s permission to enter the nest, but he also became the man at the helm; the one responsible for making decisions. It effectively meant that Bucky surrendered his bodily autonomy to Steve for the duration, but that was necessary. ‘Heat rules’ were there so that Bucky could let everything go and just be cared for.

This was a time for Heat rules.

Steve closed the door behind him and crossed the short distance to the nest. He carefully climbed inside, molding his chest to his mate’s back and curling himself around a much smaller Bucky while Bucky curled around their tiny newborn.

Bucky twisted his neck to look back at Steve.

“Got your pack buddy all settled, wolf man?” he asked with a humored grin.

Steve rolled his eyes and turned his face into the pillow, groaning.

“Yeah,” he answered. “Sam’s good. And he’ll be here until the morning, so you can stop teasing me anytime now.”

“But it’s so much _fun_.”

Steve laughed, mostly at himself. Bucky turned back to their daughter, and Steve kissed the back of his head.

He had found himself growing increasingly anxious over the last month as Bucky’s due date approached. At first he had thought it was just anxiety about becoming a parent, but then he realized that he’d been specifically fixating on the event of the home birth itself. He’d done a lot of thinking about his worries, talking it out with a cool-headed but extremely pregnant Bucky, before finally deciding to go to Dr. Welsh for help. Their former therapist and sometimes life coach had been certain that their unique Compatibility and the resulting strength of their bond was responsible for Steve’s elevated nerves, and she’d offered an experimental solution. Steve had gladly jumped on board.

For as strange as everyone around Steve found it, both Bucky and their chosen helper, Sam, were supportive of his request to have a trusted Alpha stay—well, _stand guard_ —in their home during the private, vulnerable period during and right after the birth. When Steve had first explained it, Bucky had told him that it actually wasn’t weird to have someone to stay and help out with the new baby, that people did it all the time (although he’d been confused about the choice of Sam for that role). But Steve had bashfully clarified that it wasn’t that he was looking for help with the _baby_ , per se. He was looking for help with protection.

(“Protection, _Steve?”_

_“Um. Yeah. Protection.”_

_“What—Why…”_

_“I don’t want to leave you and our baby alone.”_

_“But we won’t be alone? Steve, you’ll be here the whole time.”_

_“You’ll be alone if I have to be watching the front door.”_

_“…And_ why _would you have to be watching the front door?”_

_“In case.”_

_“‘In case’ what? You have four damn locks on that door.”_

_“I know… but I can’t help it. It’s going to hurt inside if I don’t know someone’s watching. I know it will._ ”)

Sam had made fun of him for at least an hour when Steve had asked him to do it, but he’d gladly agreed. They had decided Sam would come over to their Brooklyn apartment as soon as Bucky went into labor, really just to hang out in the living room, and then he would stick around for the night after their daughter was born.

Steve didn’t have to worry about the front door. He could be here instead: in his mate’s nest, watching Bucky lull their sweet child to sleep.

“She’s beautiful, Alpha,” Bucky whispered. He’d been calling Steve that for the past several days, just like he did during pre-Heat.

Steve hummed his deep agreement.

“She is. Just like her mama.” He nuzzled his nose against the pale bond scar on Bucky’s shoulder. “You made her perfect. Thank you, Buck.”

Bucky soon nodded off, which Steve was glad of; he needed to be resting whenever the baby was resting. Steve watched them peacefully for a while before closing his own eyes. Silly and base as it felt, he found it oddly easy to sleep when he knew that Sam was in their den and at the ready to protect Steve’s family if needed.

He didn’t know how long they had been dozing, but Steve eventually woke to the faintest scent of distress. It wasn’t true distress; it was lighter, muted. Steve was still trying to sort out his various instinctive reactions to the smell when he heard a quiet snuffling and the sounds of their pup stirring. The scent and the sound apparently weren’t enough to wake Bucky—not when he was this tired, not when his body and mind had been through so much in such a short time—but that was okay. That’s why Steve was here.

Steve carefully leaned up on one elbow to get a better view of his new daughter.

“Hey little girl,” he whispered, brushing his knuckles against her head. She made a gurgling sound, leaning into Steve’s touch. His heart just about exploded in his chest when she reached her little hands up to grab Steve’s index finger and pulled the tip to her mouth. “Oh, sweetie. Are we hungry?”

Bucky continued to nap through their little conversation, but that wasn’t a problem; Steve could tend to their baby girl’s needs while Bucky rested and regained his strength. He removed his fingers from her grip—much to her chagrin—and delicately slipped his hand beneath the part of the blanket that covered Bucky’s chest.

Steve had felt a strange but immense pride in Bucky during his final trimester when his pecs had begun to fill out (and sometimes a separate but very real sense of arousal); seeing the evidence of how well Bucky would soon feed their pup had made the Alpha inside him sing with approval. The midwife had taken time before she’d left to teach Bucky how to nurse, showing him how to position their baby, how to help her latch on. Steve had watched closely, following an instinct to absorb every little bit of information he could to prepare for when Bucky and their pup needed his help.

He was pleased that Bucky continued to sleep when Steve pulled the blanket down and exposed the skin on his chest. Their daughter gurgled more while Steve cupped one of Bucky’s breasts—gently, he knew how tender his Omega was right now—and softly massaged the tissue with the tips of two fingers. He did it exactly how the midwife had taught them; male Omegas tended to need extra help letting down their milk.

Bucky sighed in his sleep, but he still didn’t wake. Steve knew they were ready when he spotted a bead of milk forming on the opposite nipple. He bundled together a section of blanket beneath Bucky’s chest, carefully repositioning their daughter with her head supported and her body turned to the side. She was truly a sweet little miracle; she latched on almost immediately.

“Look at you,” Steve cooed. “Little champion.”

Bucky did wake up once she began suckling. He winced as she started to feed in earnest, and Steve sent a pang of sympathy for him through their bond.

“Alpha?” Bucky asked, bleary, his voice quiet as he woke.

“Hey baby,” Steve said, greeting Bucky’s open eyes. “Our girl was hungry. How do you feel?”

“Sore,” Bucky answered. He hissed when their pup suddenly chomped down. “And really, really strange right now.”

Steve chuckled and rubbed Bucky’s arm soothingly.

“Sorry,” he said. “I’d offer to do it for you, but, you know…”

He gestured to his own naked chest. Bucky snorted.

“I don't know what you’re talking about,” Bucky said. “You may be an Alpha, but you’ve got tits for _days_.”

Their daughter jumped in Bucky’s arms when Steve failed to tamp down the volume of his laughter.

Bucky began to shift after having nursed for a while, uncomfortable.

“I need to switch sides with her,” he said. “And I want to sit up for a while.”

Steve nodded and pushed himself upright to help Bucky, who held their pup close while Steve supported and maneuvered them. The three of them settled with Steve sitting against the wall while Bucky leaned back against his chest, cradled between his Alpha’s spread legs as he moved their daughter to the opposite side of his chest. Steve wrapped his arms around Bucky’s newly soft midsection and rested his chin on his shoulder. His new view was nothing less than remarkable, and he, and _oh_ —

 _“_ Woah there,” Bucky laughed. “Calm down, big guy.”

And Steve knew exactly what Bucky was talking about; what he was experiencing through the bond. His Omega and his child felt so very, very small in his arms with the way Steve dwarfed them, and the scents coming from both mother and child smelled like they knew they were well cared for. It all spoke directly to the most Alpha parts of Steve’s soul and flooded his bones and his entire nervous system with a sudden but fierce compulsion: _protect_ , _keep safe_.

His heart was racing, his adrenaline pumping. Steve heard himself growling softly. He tightened his hold around Bucky.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “Can’t help it. You both look…”

Bucky leaned his head back so Steve could see his smile.

“Like yours?” he supplied.

Steve’s low growl melted into a purr.

“Yes. Like mine.”

Bucky’s smile widened. He tilted his head to the side to expose the juncture of his shoulder, and oh, that bond scar was just _begging_ to be loved on.

Steve lowered his own head and widened his jaw, fitting his teeth into the indents on Bucky’s skin without actually biting down. Bucky did this sometimes when he knew Steve needed to have it—to have the evidence of his own bite. Bucky would let him sink his mouth back over the scar and allow him to rest there for a while, closing his eyes, soaking in his Omega’s taste and feel and scent. They only ever did it in private; Steve had a hunch that it wasn’t something most couples found comforting the way he and Bucky did.

It felt special. It was theirs.

They stayed like that while their daughter drank her fill, and then Steve helped Bucky to burp her. He decided for the sake of Bucky’s sore back that they would lay down on their sides again, opposite of Bucky’s previous position, facing each other with their little girl resting between them.

“She sleeps pretty well,” Bucky commented, staring down at their beautiful pup.

“She does. We’re lucky.”

Bucky lifted his eyes to meet Steve’s and gave him a soft smile. He nodded, as though to say, _yeah, we are._

Their daughter was so little. Little, and soft. Steve felt like he could almost fit her in the palm of one hand. He also knew that one day, she wouldn’t fit in two.

“It’s crazy,” Steve whispered, not wanting to wake the baby. “We’ve had her for just a few hours, and already I’m scared she’ll grow up too fast.”

Bucky slid a finger beneath Steve’s chin and tilted his head up, leaning forward to brush his lips against Steve’s cheek.

“It’s okay, Alpha. We get to watch her grow up now.”

Steve closed his eyes. He shuddered out a breath he hadn’t realized had been caught up in his chest. Something about Bucky—his eyes, his touch, his beautiful words, his _soul_ —always melted him on the inside.

He reached across the bond with a gentle kind of love. Steve knew from experience that it felt like a kiss.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> You can find "bonus material" from this 'verse on my tumblr! [@the1918](https://the1918.tumblr.com/post/613869899452907520/lynnes-the1918-masterlist-see-all-of-my).


End file.
